


Heathers Mini-Fics

by headofslytherin



Category: Heathers (1988)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:28:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26257906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/headofslytherin/pseuds/headofslytherin
Summary: Drabbles, challenges, prompts and more!
Relationships: Jason "J. D." Dean/Veronica Sawyer
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Reflection

> _**"September 1st:** [SHAZAM!](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/5ebedd15-dd3e-49e5-9d0c-80d4c8e414e0/de2zgdc-d10153b0-0dde-4f7f-8082-06171d665903.png?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOiIsImlzcyI6InVybjphcHA6Iiwib2JqIjpbW3sicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvNWViZWRkMTUtZGQzZS00OWU1LTlkMGMtODBkNGM4ZTQxNGUwXC9kZTJ6Z2RjLWQxMDE1M2IwLTBkZGUtNGY3Zi04MDgyLTA2MTcxZDY2NTkwMy5wbmcifV1dLCJhdWQiOlsidXJuOnNlcnZpY2U6ZmlsZS5kb3dubG9hZCJdfQ.Katy5mLYAzttZCLdFBFwFPlxCZXZkeCoH07P-eJcLxw) \- Which is better? Being a kid or being an adult? Write an excerpt about a character (or more than one) exploring this question in some way. (300 words)"_

Laying on JD’s bed, I mindlessly watch him. He twirls his knife under the fluorescents of his desk lamp. I knew he liked the way the metal gleamed, in and out of the light’s reflection. JD loved it for the same reason I loathed it—the memory of Heather. Heather Duke.

I turn my head. If I look at him any longer I’ll be sick. How did he convince me this was right?

“Veronica,” JD called while turning around in his chair. “We need to have a little talk about my petition,” he set his knife down. His body relaxed as he leaned back in his chair. His arms crossed while he let out a big sigh. He looked directly at me. The way JD stares feels violating. My stomach hurts. 

“It’s over JD. Over.”

. 

I want to go back to a simpler time. Kindergarten would be nice. Hell, it’d even be nice rewinding to the day I met JD. Before my teenage angst had a body count. Before the Diet Coke heads and Heathers, the jocks and the nerds. A time where we were all free. 

How do I do that? The art of faking your death.

. 

I’m hanging from this god awful faux noose and it’s squeezing the fuck out of my torso. This better work— the window is rattling. His footsteps echo. “I never got to tell you about my amazing petition. My petition to blow up the school tomorrow. I wanted you to be there with me… Jesus… I can’t do this without you, but you’ve left it to me.”

.

And then I see him. He’s carrying a duffel bag. Only I know what’s inside. I’m going to stop him. These people don’t deserve to die. I need to be an adult. Killing people isn’t for kids.

This is the price of being a Heather.


	2. Pops

> _**"September 2nd:** [Yippee Ki-Yay, Mr. Falcon!](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/2/2f/58_Minutes_by_Walter_Wager_cover_art.jpg) \- Airports can be annoying. Your character is at one and something is really ruining their day. What is it? (258 words)" _

“Flight 5517, group one, you may now board.” 

That intercom is fucking annoying. And having to actually _wait_ for this flight is like a slap in the face. I’ve been all around the country at this point. Right now I’m in Vegas, headed towards Sherwood, Ohio. I don’t want to waste my time. My dad and I move every few months, but it’s truly useless moving to some no-name town in the Midwest. I’m sick and tired of getting up and taking off. If it weren’t for my hell of a father I could live normally. I will never enjoy a moving day.

“Group two, you may now board.” 

Am I getting closer to home? Or am I getting closer to homicide? Hm. Who knows at this point! I can feel the tension. The stress of one more city and I’m going to crack. All these years of watching my father go insane really took its toll. Hey, we could call it generational. 

“Group three may board.” 

If my dad can use the front of a construction company to release his urges, I sure as hell can find a way too. Sooner or later I’ll have a breakthrough. The perfect opportunity will show itself, letting me finally strike. I can’t hold this back much longer. 

“Group four may board.”

Eh, here we go. I’m grabbing my old duffle bag, the one we always keep packed and ready to go. I’m trying to get up but my body is resisting. Is this a bittersweet moment? Oh jeez, what am I thinking? This isn’t bittersweet. This is fuel to my fire.


End file.
